Family Matters
by altairattorney
Summary: [Post 2x01 - spoilers up to 2x12] He sets up a picnic, to take the kids' minds off the whole mess.


**Family Matters**

Regardless of how much Stan yells, the last of the muck and stray limbs is not gone until late into the next evening.

Not that he could expect anything quicker. Wendy refused to show up until at least the heads were gone – this much is the best he can get out of Soos. After lots of yelling, talk of being fired and Mabel laughing, he had to surrender to the idea.

Still mourning a whole day worth of cash, he sets up a picnic, to take the kids' minds off the whole mess.

It's been a while, and they deserve some distraction. To be fair, they are not the only ones. When he is with them, telling jokes and cheap horror stories, he never has to think of anything else.

It is exactly what he needs. Maybe it will help pass the time.

* * *

 _"Stop right there! Stop time! Stop EVERYTHING! Who told you to fill the donuts with popcorn?"  
"Nobody! Original Soos recipe, dude!"  
"It was Mabel's idea first!"_

* * *

It doesn't take much to make Soos happy.

His idea of happiness matches things like this night, spent around dinner and illegal bonfires. Give him free time, food, a bunch of friends, and his life will turn into the picture of bliss.

Since the day he entered the Shack, it has been like this. He know happiness now, and happiness is his shelter. Not even Gravity Falls can shake him out of it.

Surely enough, he has no idea a tempest is building up out there – not far from his world, no, not at all. It is so close to them all, and yet so silent. It approaches, as serene as the starry sky.

He knows none of it. Most of them don't, anyway. And, for a while, he is fated to stay like this – content with watching the twin bicker and yell, just to let it dissolve in laughter.

Mabel is roasting sausages on the bonfire. Whenever Dipper squeaks about the smell of burnt meat, she cheerfully proclaims she cannot hear him.

Soos tries to add something, but a roar of laughter precedes him. She has a great role model, the gruff voice proclaims. Go ahead and keep learning from your Grunkle.

He is too busy smiling, and adds nothing. It amuses him, in an endearingly familiar way. What Soos loves the most are things that feel like family.

So does the delicious smell – spreading in peace, second by second, with the passing time.

* * *

 _"Dipper, stop whining!"  
"I am not whining! I am hungry!"  
"Here! Is this sausage burnt enough for you? Hee hee. Feed your brain."  
"Thanks, master chef."  
"What's with that party-pooper voice? I am amazing! I am amazing! Am I?"  
"Of course you are."_

* * *

Most of the time, Dipper is either terrified or having a lot of fun. He must say, calm is a pleasant change.

With all he has seen and done in this town, he knows peace is the rarest occurrence. Doing borderline legit things with his family, mere hours after cleaning up what was left of a zombie apocalypse, just feels unreal.

He studies the atmosphere, when he is not busy punching Mabel and laughing his head off. To be fair, what unsettles him is the memory of the recent events. Without them, things could be different. Now, regardless of how he tries to take it, he cannot deny this picnic is giving him an odd feeling of suspension.

He can't even tell whether it is the scrumptious food, the company, or the smoke from the green branches Soos put in the fire. It is like he belongs in a different world.

Dipper traces the few stars he can see with his index finger. He goes back to watching them from time to time, paying attention to the way they shift in the sky. There is something enormous and eternal in it – without him knowing, it sends a chill down his spine.

Luckily for him, the girls never leave him alone for long. Mabel knows him too well. And Wendy, fleeting and light as she may seem, always gets what he has in mind.

He smiles to both, choosing – for now – to leave the stars aside. They keep walking all the same.

* * *

 _"Hey, kid, what's wrong? You look kind of… absent."  
"Leave him alone, Stan. He is just being a nerd. He likes the stars."  
"Wendy!"  
"Whatever, kid. It's okay. We like you the way you are."_

* * *

Sometimes, Wendy pretends to be annoyed.

It is clear to everyone; she is just joking in a different shape. They know how to joke in so many ways. That one, however, is especially refreshing to her. It only happens when she is really happy, and it reminds her of all the times she isn't.

She reflects on it, every time she breaks down her grudge in laughter. It 's like she woke up midsummer, and realized work had turned into a blessing. She barely had any fun at all before they came along – she has felt this way for enough days to trust it as the truth.

Ginger-haired as her whole family is, Wendy can only picture it in grey. The long hours she spends alone in her room, the rainy days, the sawmill – it all fades to black and white in front of this campfire, with their happy faces all bright yellow and red.

Regardless of her face, she never wants this to end. That is why she is exceptionally careful. She has worked with Stan too long not to notice he has something to hide. It is just a small doubt, but it is there.

There is also a touch of absence in Dipper's eyes, and it only stands out more when she looks at his sister. She hopes nothing is wrong, with all her heart.

Wendy knows it can't, but she prays for time to slow down.

* * *

 _"It must be so fun, having brothers like you two. I'd never get bored."  
"We are the twins of fun! And mystery! And other things. And… Dipper?"  
"Just… spacing out over here. Ignore me."  
"Got it."  
"Things that are legal and safe for kids, I hope. Like… the contents of the Mystery Shack totally are. Sure."  
"Maybe. Wanna find out?"  
"I don't wanna, sweetie."_

* * *

The truth is, Mabel is never out of place.

People call her weird at least once a day, and it bounces right off her, as if it never happened. There is a kind of magic in the whole way she exists – wearing garish sweaters, speaking nonsense half of the time, yet always fitting in. It is a gift, and it is exquisitely hers.

Weirdness is the key to Gravity Falls, after all. That could be why she feels so good here. She flows between the food and the tree trunk she is occupying, always chattering, with an ease no one else shows in town. She is the soul of every party, that much is for sure.

She has many caring eyes set on her tonight. Sure enough, no one can stay in her company without ending up fond of her. It is simple, she says; all it takes is kindness, and even the grumpiest killjoys will love you.

Things are changing indeed, all around her. Maybe she is the key to what will happen – the key on her sweater, soft and golden, gleams like her smile. It is a sign.

But Mabel does not need to know, for now. She won't ask herself questions tonight. Around her is all she has and all she could ever ask for – to chew on her snack and keep listening, with shining eyes…

* * *

 _"It's scare-the-kids time!"  
"Not this again…"  
"I am your boss, Wendy! You are supposed to suffer through whatever I do. Without complaining."  
"Oh, come on! I want to hear it. Tell us a story, Grunkle Stan!"_

* * *

A dissonant banjo lifts a few notes to the moon.

Somewhere in town, a man trembles and whines. He can't help pulling the strings towards his heart. He is not as good at he once was.

He is afraid, horribly afraid. He doesn't know why yet, but he'll find out soon enough.

* * *

 _"…and it wasn't just a monster, no, sir. It was…"  
"… THE monster! The predictable horrifying monster from any horror B-movie! Come on, Stan!"  
"YAY! HORROOOR!"_

* * *

In the middle of his tale, Stan finds himself caring about his audience.

Not that having one is new to him, or even out of the ordinary. If he cared to count the chumps who left him their money, he is pretty sure the Mystery Shack would outnumbered any other shady tourist attraction in the world.

But being the center of attention is a fickle feeling, and he had never considered how much it can change if he actually looks at his listeners. Now that he thinks about it, the crowds he built his fortune on are anonymous. They are all grey outlines of faces, without a name or anything memorable at all.

He is used to playing the same game as now. He predicts easily what his visitors will think or say, and the exact moment when their mouths will all open in a choir of stupor. But in a moment like this, he knows those faces, and every new look is a surprise. How is it so difficult with the people we know best?

Do we know them at all?

He is good at this, there is no doubting it. He wishes he had known much earlier in his life; how much pain he would have saved, he can't tell. And what he feels does not matter at all – this is not the time to say he loves them, or how long he had to live to find someone who loves him in return, for what he is. This is the time to entertain and amaze. There will be time later – when the wait is done, with his infinite patience. Not right now.

He has to hold on a little longer. He must resist, and pour cheap plot twists in those starry eyes of theirs. For such precious little things, he must do his best.

After all, lying is the thing he can do best.

* * *

 _"Dude! That was the scariest moment of my life!"  
"You underestimate what I can do, Soos."_

* * *

And he means it, painfully.

* * *

 _Set after Scary-oke, but mildly referencing all the recent events. This is my first story for this fandom and I am both excited and scared. Dedicated to pengychan as a welcome gift in the fandom, and a thank you for keeping me company all along. Also dedicated to the dear friend who introduced me to this series.  
By the way, guess what inspired it._


End file.
